


Vatnsandur

by EndlessStairway



Series: Tony's Thrall and Related Tales [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Loki, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Protective Ranger, Sub Loki, young loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessStairway/pseuds/EndlessStairway
Summary: Before the events of Thor, Loki meets a forest ranger who helps him explore his desires.(This is the ranger mentioned in Tony's Thrall)





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote this sweet little fic with Loki and his forest ranger - hope you like it!

Loki crushed his excitement as he teleported to the forest clearing where he had last seen the ranger. He did not want to hope he may still be there, or that if he was there, he would be happy to see Loki again. It had been a year since their eyes had met across the river where Loki was bathing, and all that had followed. That had been a moment in time. Four days of amnesia, of deliberate incuriosity about names, ranks, obligations. Just a wild chase through the forest followed by days and nights of exploration. Loki should not have returned. He should simply have enjoyed the memory and let it fade away.

But here he was. Every burden and lesson of court life was already streaming from his shoulders like water, like the water from the river where the ranger had found him and named him _Vatsandur._ _Water spirit._ He had hunted him and kept him as his pet, his lover, his obedient servant. Loki wanted more. He wanted more but he had nowhere to get it, save here.

It was not that he was forbidden from taking lovers, of course. He was a grown man, and Odin was willing to look the other way while his sons charmed ladies and visited courtesans. But Odin certainly was not willing to allow them to form any attachments, or worse, to bring their name into scorn, brand themselves as _Ergi_ , as less than men. Thor bedded men and women both, but he never lay beneath any of them and there was no doubt as to his preferences. As usual, his golden light shone bright enough to blind all to his faults. Loki had no such luxury. He was already suspect, lean rather than muscular, studious rather than combative. He preferred a dagger to a hammer, and magic to any melee. It would do nothing but incur the Allfather’s wrath and the realm’s scorn for it to be known that his preference was the exact opposite of his brother in bedsport as well.

Loki flushed even at the thought of his father finding out such a thing. His four days with the ranger had been an awakening, but a closely hidden secret. The ranger, who never spoke his name, seemed to know at once Loki’s desire, and he met it perfectly with desires of his own. To conquer where Loki wished to yield, to order where Loki wished to obey, to praise and train and teach, where Loki wished only to learn. They both pretended they had no names, and the ranger ignored Loki’s rich clothing, his pale skin, his jewel handled blades.

Loki appeared in the clearing and looked around. It was empty. Of course it was. The ranger was long gone, moving through the forest as he pleased, watching over everything that moved within it. That was his role. A ranger did not stay in one place. Loki scuffed his foot on the grassy ground. He was glad to be gone from palace anyway, he decided. He could still enjoy his time in the forest, collect what herbs he needed and breathe the fresh air. It was rare enough to get a break from court duties and training that was not taken up with one of his brother’s expeditions. He should make the most of it.

Loki set up his small camp, a tent and a circle of stones for a fire, and when he was done he already felt better. The clean air rustling through the trees, the cool scent of pine, the grass under his feet cleared his head and he could feel peace settling on him. He had bought a few supplies, but he would have to hunt or forage for food if he wished to stay longer than a day. With that in mind, he idly strolled around the edge of the clearing, looking for a straight branch he could craft into a spear for fishing. He was on the far side of the clearing when the branches parted on the opposite side by his tent. Loki’s heart jumped in his chest when the ranger step through, as tall and broad and strong as he remembered. His hair was cropped shorter and his beard a little greyer than Loki remembered, but he had little care for such details. He stepped out from the shadows, and the ranger’s face broke into a smile, his eyes sparkling.

“ _Vatnsandur,_ ” he said, his deep voice vibrating in Loki's bones, “V _atnsandur_ , my water spirit, it is good to see you walking in my forest again.”

His possessive words did something to Loki, his knees were weak, his cheeks heating. Some rebellious part of his brain was thrilled and delighted that the ranger would claim Asgard's royal forest as his own, as easily as he would claim it’s Prince. Loki had no doubt the ranger knew who he was. But it was no matter, not to _Vatnsandur_ , not here, in this place.

Loki walked across the clearing, his throat dry, did he need to explain himself, to tell why he had come, and ask for the ranger to indulge him once more? He had not explained anything the first time, that one look had been enough. A shared understanding that had him fleeing through the forest on bare feet, the ranger close behind him, his leather _bola_ in his hand. Loki shook his head, clearing away such memories. He had lived on those memories for the past year, but he did not want them to cloud his thoughts now.

The ranger did not make him explain himself. He knew why Loki had returned. He pulled him by the shoulder as soon as he was close enough, running his hand through his hair, loosening the locks and letting them tumble about his chin. He kissed his cheek, surprisingly chaste, his beard tickling, and pulled him into a warm embrace. “V _atnsandur,_ ” he rumbled in his ear. Loki found his hands clutched tight in the ranger’s jerkin, his breath already short. “You do not need those clothes here, or those weapons. I have everything you need. I will take care of you, little one.”

Loki nodded, already moving to pull off his leather coat, desperate to please, to be obedient. Even as he did it he knew what foolishness it was to strip and drop his weapons in the depths of the forests with this man whose name he did not even know. But foolishness aside, he did it. He stood again on his bare feet in the grass, his skin prickling with cold and with the eyes of the ranger on him. He was _Vatnsandur_ , a water spirit, an elemental creature made flesh. He was a creature of this forest. As the ranger claimed the forest, he claimed all the creatures within it. _Vatnsandur_ was his creature.

The ranger ran his hands over Loki's flesh, turned him around, rubbed and examined and eventually he grunted his approval of what he saw. Such treatment did something to Loki, and when he was turned back to face the ranger, his knowing smile showed he was well aware of the effect he had.

“Down, _Vatnsandur,_ ” he ordered, his voice gruff but gentle. Loki did as he was told, down on the soft grass, on his knees, his head resting on his folded arms, as he knew the ranger liked.

A hand gripped the back of his neck, holding him in place. “You’re a good little spirit,” the ranger said, “I have missed your soft flesh. Let us see if it is as soft as I remember. Make yourself ready.”

Loki performed the useful little spell the ranger had taught him to prepare his body for use. He flushed with shame and excitement to even think of it. That his body could be used in such a way, that a prince of Asgard could strip and kneel and be ordered to submit. But he did it. He hid his flushed face in his arms, but there was no hiding his excitement from the ranger’s keen eyes, or from his calloused hand, reaching between Loki’s legs to stroke his hard cock. Loki groaned at the touch, although he knew the ranger would not let him find his pleasure so easily.

“There you go,” the ranger said, satisfied, and Loki was dizzy with it. That after a year the man could again have him so easily in the palm of his hand. He arched his back, raised his hips, longing for more. The ranger chuckled, “So eager, _Vatnsandur,_  are there none in the spirit world to take care of you? No nymphs or dryads to make good use of you?”

Loki shook his head. He rarely spoke to the ranger. He did not need to. The ranger commanded his tongue and he had other uses for it than to hear Loki’s silver words. It was a relief, not to have to talk, not to have to do anything but present his body the way the ranger liked and do as he was told. To have all responsibility gone and let himself fall into this haze. To be _Vatnsandur_.

The ranger did not wait any longer. He knelt between Loki's spread knees and took a firm grip on his hips. Loki wriggled his ass a little, and earned another soft chuckle, “Peace, _Vatnsandur_ , you’ll get what you need.” With that, he pulled Loki back onto his cock, all the way, sliding home, a long groan as Loki’s flesh was pierced and yielded to him, making way for him. Loki’s mouth gaped and his eyes widened as he was taken. It had been a year, a year since he had done this, but he had prepared himself well enough that the stretch and burn of it soon gave way to a warm fullness. More than that, his mind hazed with his submission, to be used like this, for the ranger after a full year to order him to his knees and take him so easily, as though it was his right, as though Loki’s body served only for his pleasure. Loki was dizzy with it, and he gasped as the ranger pulled out and thrust back in. Warm hands on his hips steadied him, a low voice behind him told him how good he was, how beautifully he submitted, how perfectly he took it. Loki pushed back into the rangers thrusts, desperate for more, more praise, more sensation, more pleasure, he did not know. He only wanted more.

True to his word, the ranger gave him what he needed, his calloused hand stroked him to completion just as the ranger finished inside him. Loki trembled all over as he came, the ranger buried deep, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his cock. Loki trembled and his eyes filled, the crest of his pleasure pushing him over the edge of his control, and suddenly everything was too much. Too much, he had let go of too much of himself and if he did not hold on to something, he would never want to come back.

The ranger soothed him, after. He spread out his furs and laid him down, let him rest his head on his broad shoulder and kissed him gently. He didn’t ask him any questions or make him explain himself, merely fed him a handful of dried fruits and waited for him to stop shaking, wrapped in his embrace.

“You are well?” He asked, and Loki nodded. The ranger propped himself on one elbow and looked down on him, the late afternoon sun casting deep shadows through the trees. He traced his fingers around Loki’s eye, over his cheekbone, around his jaw, his eyes seeing far more just Loki’s face.

“This can be a hard world, for a water spirit,” he said eventually, and Loki nodded again, his eyes filling with tears, that he could not stop or explain. The ranger wiped them away with his thumb. “I know all that passes in this forest. Any spirits that seek shelter or comfort here will always be welcome. Especially you, _Vatnsandur.”_

He smiled down at him, held the final dried apple to his lips. Loki ate it, and smiled back up at him. He knew not what power the ranger held, or how he had known Loki was in the clearing, but for now, he welcomed the feeling of safety, of peace, of being _enough,_  in this place.  



	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I guess I lied about Loki's Fate being my last update of 2018! Have a little young loki getting schooled by the ranger.

Loki awoke while it was still dark. The air was chill and he was nude, but he lay on cozy furs, the ranger’s arms wrapped around him from behind, his warm body pressed against Loki’s back. Loki had a high tolerance for cold, he always had, and even though his breath made puffs of mist in the dark air, he was comfortable. Loki lay in his lovers arms and watched the stars turn overhead. The pitch black of the forest allowed the nebulae and galaxies above them to shine, bright and clear, a riot of color and light. It took Loki’s breath away, and such a view, and the slow, hypnotic rhythm of warm breath on his neck, Loki was content to lie and wait. He knew what would happen at sunrise. Color would bleed back into the world, the sky lightening and the birds and creatures of the forest awakening. As his forest awoke, the ranger would awake. And he would be _hungry_.

Sure enough, with a growl in his ear and a firm tug on his hair, Loki was rolled onto his belly, warm fur tickling his face.

“Do water spirits not need to sleep, _Vatnsandur_?” the ranger asked from his perch on top of Loki, stretched out, his broad body pressing Loki flat to the ground. Loki smiled to himself, his morning going exactly as he had hoped. He was positioned as his lover desired, one knee bent up next to his chest, the ranger’s strong hands on his hips, tipping them up just as he liked.

“Ready yourself,” the ranger breathed in his ear. Loki did as he was told, casting his useful spell, and a mere moment later he was breached, the thick cock of the ranger pushed inside him, slow and steady, taking what he claimed for himself. Loki moaned into the fur, the ranger’s hands hooked under his shoulders, keeping him exactly where he was wanted. He had no leverage with one leg bent up, he just had to lie there helpless on his belly and take whatever the ranger gave him. He was happy to do so, to have nothing to think of, no performance required other than his submission, and his acceptance of the ranger's use of his body for his personal pleasure.

“Please,” Loki said, needing some friction on his cock, the tickle of fur under him nothing more than a tease. The sound of his voice was unusual in the calm of the clearing, and the ranger twisted his fingers in his hair, holding his head down to the fur. His hips did not stop pumping, working his cock in Loki's body, attending to his own pleasure, holding Loki in place so that he might serve for that purpose.

"Please!" Loki said again, his voice almost a sob. He had cum yesterday, but already he was desperate to climax again, to lose his thoughts for just a moment in that heady rush.

“Hush, _Vatnsandur,_ ” the ranger said, his voice dark, and Loki hushed. He put his face in the fur and ground his hips and tried to sneak a hand down to stroke himself. He was not permitted, of course. His arm was pulled back and clamped down by his head, a strong hand around his wrist. The ranger kissed his neck, leaving him squirming, unsatisfied, as he pushed hard and fast and groaned in his ear with his climax.

“It is early,” the ranger said, standing and rearranging his clothes, Loki naked and well used on the ground before him. “There is much to do, if you want to earn your pleasure today.”

And Loki did. He wanted to earn it more than he wanted to be given it. He wanted to do as he was told, to do well and earn his reward. And so he did not complain when the ranger hobbled him like a spirited horse, a coarse rope looped around each ankle. The short length between Loki's feet prevented his usual long stride and kept him to an anxious trot. The ranger handed him a bucket and told him to fetch water. Loki nodded, obedient, hopeful that he could do well at this task.

The stream was only ten minutes away, but Loki was off balance, naked in the forest, unable to move with his usual ease or speed. He jerked against the rope dozens of times on the way to the water. Each time, the coarse rope chafed at his ankles, reminding him that he was trying to take a longer step than he was allowed.

He arrived, breathing hard, his brow damp with frustrated sweat, and managed to fill the bucket without incident. The stream was running high, and he huffed out a relieved breath when he saw he would not have to climb down the bank. That most likely would have ended with him falling in the water. As cold tolerant as he was, the water would be icy, and he did not want to test out the limits of his resistance.

The way back was worse. Carrying the heavy bucket, he spilled water with every step, stumbling and yanking on the rope over and over again. By the time he returned to the clearing his ankles were raw and his bucket was less than half full. He knew he would not be getting any rewards for such a poor effort.

The ranger smiled when he saw him, peering into his bucket and then into his miserable face. He kissed his eyelids and wiped his thumbs under his teary eyes.

“Harder than you thought, to slow down?” he said, and sat Loki down on the fur. He untied the rope and rubbed soothing salve into the raw skin, filling the air with the smell of nettle and mint. His strong fingers worked the salve, warming it up before he applied it carefully to Loki's ankles. When he was satisfied, he bound up the injuries, first in linen, then with soft fur strips over the top. He kissed the top of Loki's head and gave him a cup of cool water from the bucket. There was almost no water left after that, and Loki hung his head. He had not done well. When he had drunk, the ranger took his cup and tied the rope back around his ankles, over the fur. He handed him the empty bucket and said “Try again.”

This time, Loki slowed down. The fur around his ankles stopped the rope from hurting him, but it still would trip him if he did not measure his every move carefully. He took small steps, not allowing the rope to pull, watching the path and his feet. There was no rush. They had all day. Loki was not expected back at the palace until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. He had time. He breathed, and took one small step after another, focused and intent.

When he returned to the palace, he would be back in the fast flowing current of court life, of lessons and training and obligation, trying to fit in his own studies and practice his magic where he could, trying to complete with Thor in the arena and perhaps win a scrap of approval from his father, trying to find a place with Thor’s friends (Thor’s friends, not his own) and trying to find time to spend with his mother in her wild garden, to drink tea and talk with her, even for a few minutes without one of her ladies calling her attention. He pushed that all away. All he had to do now was fetch water. Nothing more.

He arrived back at the clearing with the bucket nearly full, his steps slow and controlled. Not racing to finish, but accepting the restriction and working with it. The ranger had kindled a fire and sat by it, legs crossed, relaxed. Loki took the bucket to him and filled the iron kettle that waited in the embers. The ranger watched him work, his face fond, tolerant, as though Loki were a child learning to perform the tasks of an adult.

Loki made tea and handed the ranger his cup. He did not make one for himself, only sat by the rangers side and waited for him to hold the cup to his lips and give him a few sips. It tasted of flowers and honey, like summer, like sunlight on his skin. He smiled up at the ranger, and waited patiently for his next task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year for real this time!!! Love you!!


End file.
